


Just Breathe

by iamthemagicks



Series: the love, whatever it was [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamthemagicks/pseuds/iamthemagicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Lisa and the first time after Ben was born. A little bit of smut, a little bit of fluff at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Breathe

“Don’t you trust me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then do it,” Lisa tells him, in a soft tone, her mouth a hot spot on his neck. 

Dean rolls his eyes, but does as she says. She kisses his chin before sitting behind him on the bed. Her toned legs on either side of his, her breasts pressed firmly to his back. She kisses his neck and rakes her fingers up and down his arms. “Now, take a deep breath in.” Her hands rest on his hips.

They sit, naked, on her futon couch. Embarrassingly, he couldn’t get it up; no matter how much he kissed her, how much she touched him. He didn’t sleep that night, or the night before. Just laid on the couch watching TV while she slept. Dipped into the nursery any time Ben made a sound, as not to wake her. 

“And out,” she breathes right over his ear and he does it with her. Her body is so warm and soft against him. She kneads his shoulders and back for a while, her hands stronger than they seem; works out the kinks from that damn couch, from sleeping in the car the night before he arrived.

After his spine feels like rubber, his shoulders finally eased, she presses her palms to his thighs and prompts him again with the breathing. In, count to three, and out, count to three. She leads him until they’re breathing as one being; their attached ribs, exposed stomachs. “There we go,” she whispers, running her nails over the fine hair on his thighs. 

He groans at the goosebumps appearing all over his body, leans his head back a bit against her shoulder. She kisses his neck, his cheek and he turns around to capture her lips. He feels it now, the blood in his veins, his cock hardening in her hand. 

It’s been months, actually. Eight weeks since Ben, three of those weeks he’d been away. He was afraid of her body now, of pushing her too far, of hurting or breaking her. He kisses her tender slow, along the jaw, her neck. Her breasts are full, round, her nipples peaked and dark. She’s so beautiful. His lips down her chest and stomach, over the pinking c-section scar. Her body shudders at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, lifting up and away.

“No.” She shakes her head and cups his face with her hand. “No, it’s fine.” He moves back up her body, kissing her navel, each one of her ribs, then flattens his body against hers. She takes a big breath and clutches to his hair. 

With his lips at that sweet spot on her neck, he pauses, as moisture spreads against his chest. Lisa seems to notice before him, jerking back and pushing him at the shoulders. “Shit. Shit,” she mumbles. He leans away from her and she squirms from his grasp. A thin layer of milk pearls at her breasts.

“I’m sorry.” She gets up and heads for the bathroom. 

“Lise,” he calls. But she ignores him. He sighs and grabs his shirt to wipe chest. 

He sits on the couch for a while, still hard, ready to go. He rubs his face with his hand and watches the clock on the wall. It ticks loudly in the silence of the room. Then he eyes the baby monitor. At any second, Ben will cry. Dean KNOWS this. So he holds his breath and tries not to think about the hard-on resting against his stomach.

Finally Lisa comes out, looking flustered. She’s pressing a towel to her chest. ”Sorry,” she says again. “Sometimes…fuck, sometimes that happens.” She offers a halfhearted grin. 

“Come here,” he says, putting out his hand. She takes it, and he leads her down to his lap. “I don’t care.” He kisses down her neck again, runs his fingers over her sweat-slick hips. 

“But-“

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her and kisses her.

She tastes like strawberries. Sliding inside of her is like being home, whole. She gasps a bit and he goes slow, letting her body adjust to his again. He enjoys the extra padding still at her hips, the softness of her belly. 

“Dean,” she groans as he bites her neck. 

It’s some sort of fucking spiritual experience, Dean swears. The way that Lisa rides his cock up and down, smooth and a little frantic. Their breathing is still in-sync, their rib cages moving as one. Her nails leave red lines down his back when she comes and she grabs onto him like she’s never going to let go. He comes inside of her and keeps rocking his hips up until she slows her breathing, and tries to cradle his head to her chest. 

“My God,” she whispers.

He chuckles. “Yeah?”

She threads her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t really need me to stroke your ego every time you give me an orgasm do you?” 

He shrugs. “It’s certainly not BAD to hear.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

He lifts up and bites at her lower lip. Then there it is, the soft crying of their son coming from down the hall. Lisa tenses before standing. Dean grabs her wrist to halt her. “Take a shower, I’ll get him.”

She tilts her head. She’s a fucking goddess. Her face still flushed, her hair tangled and falling out of it’s bun. The stretchmarks on her hips, that scar on her belly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Reluctantly she goes to the shower. Dean pulls on a pair of sweatpants and goes to the nursery. 

“What’s the problem, bud?” He bends over to pick up Ben, then paces the room, the crying baby against his bare chest. “Come on, it’s not so bad, I’m here now.” He walks down the hall. The shower runs, and she has the door open a crack.

“Fed you before you slept, and you don’t need changed.” 

Ben calms as Dean gets to the bedroom, and sits on the mattress, pressing his back to the headboard. “Okay, okay,” he coos. “We’ll just chill out here until Mom gets out of the shower.” He holds the baby against his chest and starts to tire. 

Ben’s little breath matches Dean’s as he slowly inhales and exhales. Ben’s fist curls, his mouth slacks open. “Little punk,” he mutters with a yawn. 

Dean falls asleep and hardly registers the feeling of Lisa crawling into bed and placing a kiss on his head.


End file.
